Page 2

Chapter one

A fter weeks of rain, the much missed rays of sun warmed my cheek as I crept across the drying forest floor.

I was miles from the once abandoned hut I’d called my home for the last five years.

Massive trees surrounded me, each one erupting from the ground and putting the illuminating canopy well over two hundred feet in the air—the sound of enthusiastic chirps echoing off of the rubicund bark.

There were but a few specks of green that littered the dark clay pathways split open by tree roots—a stark contrast to the foliage I was used to.

With skinnier trees, the forest surrounding the cottage was filled with knee-high green grass and bushes peppered with bright and colorful flowers, separated only by well-worn paths.

Many travelers, fae and human alike, found themselves on the wide path in front of the crumbling building, finding what was once a leaning eyesore with broken and boarded up windows to now be decorated with trinkets which clinked in the wind from every spot available.

While the rundown home was exactly that, rundown, it still held the memories of the best and now worst years of my life. Every corner was filled with yet another reminder of what I’d lost.

For many years I’d half expected someone to come along claiming it as theirs. But with every passing year that thought has escaped me, becoming replaced by another.

Will I ever have the courage to escape it?

—

Sweat dripped off the hilt of the cracked handle, making it slip from my grasp. Embarrassment bloomed across my face. I knew the yell was coming before it even left his mouth.

“You’re still dropping your blade!” His shout echoed through the room, followed closely by another, “Again!”

Heat filled my face even further and I tried to stop my chest from heaving but the exertion was getting to me.

I wiped my clammy hand on my torn and severely stained pants before picking up my blade again—determined to escape the training session we’d been working on for hours.

My gaze landed on Hugh—his hard stare instinctively straightening my spine at the petrifying look.

It was intensified by his long, dark beard that started at his sharp-tipped ears, coming down to end just above his chest.

Hugh’s beard looked the exact same as it did when I was younger.

His skin, hair, everything about him was the same, as if he were frozen in time, all because he was fae.

The only thing that seemed to show the lifetimes of experience and pain were his eyes.

Those orbs of rich chocolate that seemed to level me with just a glance, but yet after hours of being locked in my cell, they were the only thing that could make me crumple in relief.

Hugh's tall, bulky frame towered over me as I stared up at the only father I had ever known.

We gathered again in the fighting position—holding our swords up in front of us—and readied ourselves to block any incoming blows.

I circled the mat, waiting patiently for him to drop his elbow—the telltale sign that he was about to make the first move.

Right on cue, he dropped his elbow an inch, and I pounced.

I aimed for his left side, but his surprise at my sudden burst of energy didn’t last long.

He blocked the hit easily with a clash of our swords and parried.

In a flick of the wrist, his sword swiftly cut the air, looking to connect with the top of my right shoulder.

I ducked under the blade, using its own momentum to throw him off balance, and with an added kick to the side, sent him sprawling on the ground.

I smirked, but my joy from seeing him on the ground was short lived.

Promptly recovering, his bald head and finely built sword, Airmathair, glistened in the midmorning sun radiating through the window as the swirl pattern of the silver steel rose into the air and sped towards me.

Tossing my sword to the side, I dove in between his legs, somersaulting and twisting back around onto one knee to press my dagger to his spine over his sweat soaked tunic.

A smile split my face in two as I taunted, “Got you.”

His earlier anger was now gone, replaced by a sigh of relief and a smile that spread as he turned to look at me, “About time, Mira.” The amusement faded into sorrow with a clearing of his throat as he helped me stand up.

“Be prepared to leave tonight. I don’t want you here for one more second than you have to be. ”

A ball formed in my throat as I fought back tears. “I’m scared.”

“There is no need to be, soon we will go to the fields of gold and purple flowers—the ones hidden between the trees,” he reassured.

I thought about the fields he told me about so many times before. The ones that I dreamed about seeing. Where I imagined being able to run free, to sing, to laugh.

“Can you make me a promise, Gem?”

I nodded, no longer able to form words, and Hugh opened his mouth to speak but was interrupted by a loud bang.

“Hugan!” The raspy, identifiable yell made my blood instantly run cold. Both of our heads whipped in the direction of the door and the approaching footsteps behind it, before returning to lock eyes. Panic and fear raced through me as his face began filling with regret.

We were caught.

“Run, no matter what,” he whispered, raising his hand. I braced myself for the incoming blow—our only escape. The slap hit me across the face so hard it knocked me to the ground precisely as the door burst open.

—

The rushing river just yards away pulled me from my thoughts and thankfully covered the snaps of the unavoidable twigs splitting beneath my boots.

The dirt ground shifted to pebbles, eventually turning into boulders that lined the river.

Each of them hugged water so clear it was like a liquid window.

I searched along the bank, looking for any sign of the beast. I’d spent mile after mile looking for a trace, with no hint at there even being anything in this area other than the report from the nearby farmer claiming that something was eating his cattle.

After what felt like another hour of walking with my nose practically on the ground, I finally spotted the piece I’d been searching for.

Near a rock that resembled a tiny dragon egg, was a chunk of rotting flesh—and the start of the trail for my next target.

A shiver coursed through my spine at the sudden rush of nausea as I recognized the flesh.

The horrific image of the zalkrot displayed in my head.

I’d never seen one in person, only a painting depicted in the books, but even that image was enough to give me nightmares.

The zalkrot’s feet looked like enormous hands supporting legs that had a likeness to a dog's.

Carrying the tall body of bone and gray rotting skin that peeled off in chunks as new skin formed underneath.

Its tiny head consisted of black eyes and a short snout with two vertical slits for nostrils, while a cavernous black pit filled with gleaming rows of teeth laid upon its chest. Set between two obscenely long arms that each came to a point.

Four out of the five kingdoms had been infected with monsters like it and many more since the creation of the faeries. The only one spared was an island run by the only human king—nature's way of balance, I guess.

There were two types of fae, the ones who had magic and the ones who didn't. While they both had increased abilities and immortal life, they could only be killed by the rarely found steel, some magic—including the beasts, or decapitation.

Which worked in favor of the fae throughout the infected part of the realm, not particularly for the humans though.

And while most say it was the gods that put the fae and all of these other monsters on Sedonia, I only wondered: where were the gods now?

The distinct sour and acidic smell guided me as it filled my nose. Replacing the subtle scent of spice and earthy undertones with a hint of sweetness that usually filled this part of The Great Forest.

I was getting close.

I took only two steps, and then I heard it.

A blood-curdling scream that sent a rush of adrenaline straight to my heart, ripped through the air.

My body instinctively ducked behind a large tree trunk for cover.

I tucked myself close, making pieces of the bark painted in green moss and skittering bugs to tear at my clothes as I searched around the tree to catch a glimpse at the source.

Past the dappled rays shining through the leaf-covered branches, I found it.

My breath ceased at the sight unfolding before me as my eyes locked on the abomination first, followed by the victim of its predacious desires—a young woman.

She hung from the demon's arm that speared her chest and lodged in the tree behind her.

A torrent of blood cascaded from the tips of the woman's navy sandals to the rapidly forming puddle on the ground.

Her face contorted in pain as the beast that began shredding her body apart with its feet—feasting upon her.

The woman's weakening screams filled the forest once again—rattling my bones.

I blocked away the growing sorrow for her, and reached inside myself, checking for the red mist that danced within the bottomless pit of my stomach.

Letting my vengeance fuel my anger as my fingertips met the familiar cold of the sapphire stone set in the handle of my sword.

I silently unsheathed the double-edged blade covered in a swirling Damascus pattern, and soon to be blood, before lunging toward the chaos beyond.